Most embarrassing thing your parents have ever done to you

In honour of my off topic post in this thread:

http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?postid=679118#post679118

what is your most embarrassing memory of time with your parents? For those of you with children, feel free to share how the other half lives…
come on, get posting, let the healing process commence!

My mother could get off some shots, but for pure embarassment, my then-mother-in-law wins my all-time prize.

My wife’s brother was bringing his third wife home to meet the family. He walked in and said hello to everyone, but his fiancee held back at the door. Finally, my mother in law beckoned her to come in, and as she walked in, my mother in law gave her a quick once-over and said

“Oh my, you’re MUCH prettier than the other two!”

My wife and I nearly had a stroke, trying to keep from laughing.

Every time my dad came to visit me at college he would deck himself out in school paraphanelia: Georgetown T-shirt, hat, belt-buckle, sun visor, socks (Socks!), that clear sticker in the back window of the car. He would be wearing some Hoya-related clothing every single day of the visit. I mean, obviously he was proud, but guess what, Dad!?!? Everyone else here already goes to Georgetown. They aren’t impressed that your daughter does too. You look like a dork!

My parents would also insist on calling parties to make sure parents were home. I was a complete geek in high school, so this only contributed further to my social ostracization, since many parties were cancelled as a result of their call. They were really overprotective, so I always ended up having to explain the weird reason that my mother wouldn’t let me go to something. Which reminds me, we’ve GOTTA get Alphagene in here to tell his “INXS concert-Gulf War” story.

quick aside

I just want to say that I think this:

Is the sweetest thing I’ve heard. (My parents didn’t come to my college graduation. And it was in town)

Zette

Most embarrassing thing my dad did:

I threw a hot tub party on senior cut day while my folks were out. Since I was a total geek in high school, I was feeling pretty good about it. Half the senior class was hanging out in my back yard, having a good time. Of course, Dad came home in the middle of the party. He tried to find me in the crowd of people but couldn’t. Not knowing quite what to do, he simply bellowed “NO BEER!!!” at the top of his lungs. You’ve never seen a party break up so quickly in your life…

Most embarrassing thing my mom ever did:

Despite my insisting that I’d outgrown such things, my mom bought me a Dukes of Hazzard lunch box for my first day of 5th grade. After making the obligatory PB&J sandwich and filling the Thermos with apple juice, she sent me off to school. Of course, everyone immediately started making fun of me and pointing fingers.

Most embarrassing thing they did as a cohesive set of parental units:

I had some college friends spend February break with me in New York sophomore year. They came all the way up from Virginia to find that my mom and dad wouldn’t let them drink in the house.

My father’s very existence is incredibly embarassing to me. He is the man who refused to shave his ankles during high school football (before pre-wrap) and so now has no hair on his legs from mid-shin down. How does he cope with this fact? By wearing his socks pulled all the way up. It looks stupid on NBA players, Dad. It doesn’t look any better on you.

This is a man who tells dirty jokes to my friends. Very DIRTY jokes. This is a man who eats butter plain, wears his dress socks with sandals and shorts, flirts with waitresses, wears the same Hawaiian shirt 12 days in a row without washing it, thinks he is Cliff Clavin (and that it’s a good thing to be Cliff Clavin) and blatantly checks women out in public and then says things to me like, “Boy, I’d like to punch her card!”
This is a man who I used to make drop me off a block away from the movie theater so my friends wouldn’t know he existed.

But I digress. I have two stories that were horrifingly embarassing for me.

First, when I was in 8th grade, my dad took me to the library to meet a friend to study. As usual, I evaluated his clothing before I would go anywhere with him. He had a white t-shirt, jeans and was freshly showered so his hair didn’t stick up like it normally did. Then I made him walk into the library before me so nobody would associate me with him. I met my friend and we studied a bit. Then she got up to get a book and a minute later I hear giggling from the row she’s in. She comes back to our table and says, “You have to see this total dork! He’s dressed like he’s stuck in the 50’s! It’s too funny! He’s so nerdy!” and so on, and on, and on about what at complete idiot this man was.

She leads me to the aisle and we peek around the bookshelf to see this freak of nature. But the only person standing in that row was my dad. So I say, “What guy?” and my friend looks at me like I’m totally insane and says, “That man, right there! In the jeans and t-shirt with the slicked back hair! RIGHT THERE!” and she points directly at my father.

Ah, yes. I had come to one of the major decision making points of my young life. Let me tell you, this was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. Do I A) Laugh and point and make fun of the goofy “stranger” and then somehow figure out a way to continue to disassociate myself from him for the rest of my life in order to stay friends with this girl, or do I B) Own up to it and admit that he is a blood relative and take my blows?

After some deliberation, I finally looked at my friend and, swallowing a big lump of fear and regret, said, “Angie…that’s my DAD!” And promptly wished for the earth to swallow me up.

Story # 2: Freshman year of high school, I was on the basketball team. Being as I’m barely 5’1" and have little hand-eye coordination, I mostly sat the bench with about 4 other girls who I had become very good friends with, since we all spent lots of time watching the rest of the girls actually play basketball. Anyhow, one day during a game, there we are, sitting on the end of the bench and looking at the spectators as we usually did. Generally we would make mean-spirited comments on how the less attractive or poorly dressed specatators were related to the girls who were actually getting to play. Then a man walked in and immediately grabbed the attention of everybody in the entire gym. Why? Because of the BLAZE ORANGE sweater he was wearing. Naturally, all my pine-rider friends latched on to this horrible fashion faux pas and said he was so bad that not even the girl we hated the most was evil enough to have such a moron for a father.

It took me a while for me to spot this freak of nature, because the only orange sweater I saw was, you guessed it…my dad. He was wearing this Broncos sweater the neighbor had KNITTED for him out of flourescent orange yarn. When I realized it was him they were making fun of, I kept my mouth shut. But at the end of the game he came over to hug me and there was no way I could pretend I didn’t know him. I am STILL hearing about that orange sweater from my high school friends.

There’s more, too. Just shoot me now.

Dammit, I don’t have a story about being embarrassed by my parents, primarily 'cos I was such a geek in school that I did a good enough job myself. But I gotta hijack…

magdalene, what school? SLL '97 here.

[/hijack]

Olentzero:

SFS '96. Do I KNOW you in real life? That would be weird.

Sorry, /hijack

I sure understand the gist of magdelenes’ post, but same here, Zette. Three college degrees and I never attended a commencement because why bother if you don’t have anyone there to be proud of you?

Ah, parental humiliation…my mom, hands down. She was great, but a total control freak.

So…after living away from home for years during undergrad, I moved again for grad school. It was the usual hassle of registration, finding an apt, moving, etc.

I’d been gone three whole days when a State Trooper knocked on my apt door at night. My phone wasn’t going to be installed until the next day, so I was panicked; death in the family, disaster, etc.

No, “Call home; your mother is worried about you.” The cop looked completely incredulous (but polite) and I was mortified. She called the police on me because I hadn’t called her for 3 days! (Note: I HAD called her to tell her I’d arrived safely and would be busy for a while.)

Grrrrr.

Veb

Hmmm . . . I’m trying to decide whether it was the time my mother told me in front of my fiancee, my grandparents, and two of my aunts that we were forbidden from taking two hours between our wedding ceremony and reception to allow the photographer, who I paying $600, to take pictures, leading to a screaming match; or the time my mother threw me and all my belongings out of a truck on the side on I-71 south of Cleveland during Spring Break because my emotional problems led to poor grades in winter quarter and placement on academic probation. Which would you vote for?

Whoa, pldennison, let me stand down in respect.

Those are toughies, but I’d vote for the wedding picture scenario. Who really notes the weirdness happening along highways, but pitching a hissy fit at a wedding? That has time-depth and recognition factors.

When it comes to family, it’s scant consolation that near-swimmers in the gene pool commit the idiocies. You and your bride are exempt from the humiliation save as victims.

“Living well is the best revenge.” You’re happily wed, usefully employed and widely–very widely–respected. Everybody has wacko relatives, and the lack of same either means lying or a psychotic fugue state.

Veb

It has to be the time, as a teenager, I wandered off while we were shopping at K-mart, so they had me paged !!
I did not want to be caught dead in a K-mart at that time… and was so shy… I could swear everyone was looking at me.

I was 11. It was Christmas Eve at my grandparents. All the family, cousins, and friends of the family, including 2 boys my age not related to me.

I received a bra (36 DD) and a shirt and was prompted to try them on. I went to the bathroom and changed. When my grandmother saw me, in the middle of the living room in front of everyone, lifted the front of my shirt all the way up so she and everyone else could see how well my new bra fit. I fled to the other room and she screamed after me about being rude to my poor grandma.
BTW, the bra did fit.

This doesn’t embarrass me at all anymore, but it was quite mortifying when I was 1-
my parents are hopeless romantics and are both skilled dancers. They will often get up and dance together in public, regardless of whether or not there’s even a dance floor (think Gomez and Morticia). They are fairly good, and have drawn applause on a few occasions.

I think it’s absolutely admirable now that they connect like that as a couple, but as a kid, I hated it.

That was supposed to say “when I was 12”. Sorry!

lee–

Ouch!!

Similar story/opposite problem:

My mother announced in front of our whole extended family (including several boy cousins also in Jr High with me) that we had purchased a training bra, but I probably wouldn’t need one for some time. Thanks, Mom. (sad truth is she was right).

Hmmm… Off the top of my head, I’ve gotta say when I was about four or five.

To preface, we were quite (very very) poor when I was a little kid. We had five children in the house, so it was tough making ends meet. Because of this, quite often our clothes were too tight or too loose. My mom also babysat on occassion, and with all the kids in my family, there were always tons of extra little people around, too.

When I was about four or five, I was in my room, changing my underwear. They waistband is pretty tight, and my weak little four year old arms can’t get them off, so I call for Mom to help. Mom comes in, a jillion kids trailing her, kneels down, strips my underwear off, and slaps a new pair on me. With the door open. With about 20 kids, half female, watching.

I’ve never forgiven her. That’s got to be the root of most of my emotional and relationship issues. God, I don’t think a four to five year old could get that embarrassed. I cried for hours. I don’t think she ever figured out why.

They were He-Man underoos, if it matters.

–Tim

Hmmm. I was in 7th grade at the time, and my Dad was a teacher at the Xian school I attended. Apparently, he was telling everyone that I could beat up anyone in the school. (I was taking karate lessons at this point, and was pretty decent. At my first promotion I was advanced 2 belt levels. This didn’t make up for the fact that I was scrawny and 12 years old.) Whenever he saw one of my friends doing something he connected with teasing, he would warn them to watch out or they might get a foot in their face. “Why?” they would ask. “Because you’re picking on him, and he doesn’t like it.” Bear in mind, I was still there at the time. I’m lucky his comments didn’t cause me to get my ass kicked.

TVeblen: Looks like the way I stated it may have been misleading–it wasn’t at the wedding itself, but at a pre-wedding planning event. Nevertheless, it was humiliating for my mother to be barking orders at her 21-year-old son concerning an event she wasn’t even paying for, yet felt entitled to make decisions about.

[hijack]

If you’re '96, I give at least a passing acquaintance a high probability rating. D’you remember a guy who ran around with his head shaved, mustache and goatee, wearing a black felt cap so he looked like V.I. Lenin? Used to sell Socialist Worker out in front of the ICC (aka “Red Square”).

Yeah, nice to see you again, too. :smiley:

[/hijack]